


Borealis

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 17:50:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10541493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Will’s old school charming and still nefarious.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for ladystark428’s “Wes/Riker planetarium” request on [my tumblr](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/159180270665/found-it-can-i-request-a-wesriker-planetarium). (For [my bingo card.](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/158937866370/fic-bingo))
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The lights dim, and the projector rises. It doesn’t make the old whirring noise he remembers from childhood, but it still _looks_ the same, full of little pumps and grooves: an ancient technology preserved for sentiment. The curved ceiling fills with the purple swirl of galaxies, and Wesley leans across his seat to whisper, “There’s no one else here.”

“It’s automated,” Will tells him, just as quiet, more out of reverence than any need. It _feels_ like a special room, and talking during the presentation feels taboo. A low-pitched voice rumbles out as stars appear, each one precisely named. Wesley could chart them all in his sleep.

He corrects, “No, there’s _no one._ ” In the entire room. It’s just the two of them, reclined in their black seats, the plastic armrest an uncomfortable protrusion between them. Will grins, and Wesley instantly knows that the emptiness is no coincidence.

“I _may_ have booked it privately,” Will answers, to which Wesley grins right back. There’s a vague twinge of guilt under it—that’s dozens of people who’ll have to wait their turn, just because his boyfriend has an overly romantic streak.

But it is endearing, and he teases back, “We could’ve done this under the real stars, Commander.”

“On the Starfleet clock, Lieutenant?” Will winks. “I figured you wouldn’t want to spend your shore leave on career activities, so I’m giving you science geek stuff instead.”

“You think I’m a geek?” Wesley counters without malice. It’s impossible to be mad at Will Riker when he’s down to a civilian sweater and jeans, like a domestic husband straight out of the catalogue. The projected stars pierce the darkness to play along his face, brilliantly lighting his fond smile.

His hand reaches around the armrest, deliberately brushing over Wesley’s, and he says, “Tell me you didn’t come here all the time as a kid.”

Wesley rolls his eyes and finally turns his head away. Will’s a handsome picture, but the familiar lightshow is an equal delight. Several-decade old nostalgia stirs in him. He _did_ love it here. “I didn’t have to,” he muses. “I knew it all anyway. ...But I did like the show.” Casting Will a pointed look, he adds, “And for all you know, I genuinely want to sit back and watch it.”

“Pfft,” Will scoffs, “You know all this already.” And he twists around in his seat, hand moving from Wesley’s knuckles to his thigh, the other arm reaching over to grab Wesley’s hip. He’s on his side before he knows it, his slender form facing Will’s more burly body, and Will leans across the narrow space between to kiss him.

Wesley puts a hand on Will’s chest with every intention of pushing him back and paying real attention to the show. But Will’s hand is already on his belt buckle, and he’s always had a penchant for following Will anywhere, even the most mischievous of places.

As Will slides into his pants, Wesley moans between kiss, “Alright, fuck me under the stars.”

Will laughs and closes in for another kiss.


End file.
